


The Path of Duty

by Isimile



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Big Bang, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isimile/pseuds/Isimile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn and Faramir learn that duty and the heart rarely walk the same path. In the wake of the War of the Ring, they have to decide which traditions to take with them into the new Age that is upon them.</p>
<p>My submission to the Alpha/Beta/Omega Big Bang. </p>
<p>Please visit also chibifukurou who created the art to my story at <a href="http://chibifukurou.livejournal.com/63402.html">http://chibifukurou.livejournal.com/63402.html</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path of Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Some scenes are closely based on the books, simply adapted to the a/b/o universe and the changed pairings. I’ve noted the chapters I worked most with at the end of the story. 
> 
> Also, English is only my second foreign language, so there might be mistakes.

~~~~ Part 1 ~~~~

Faramir felt like it had been countless years now that he was caught in the darkness, neither truly dead yet nor alive but, it seemed to him, he was drifting further and further from the light. Just as he felt about to leave this cold, dark world which had taken his family from him already, he heard someone calling him back. He did not know the voice but the authority in the tone caught him. It spoke to an empty place inside of him and he was unable not to follow it.

When he opened his eyes, he first saw blue eyes that seemed older and wiser than the years suggested by the face appearing around them. He knew instinctively that this man was the one who had called him and by the same instinct did he know that this man was his king and alpha. He felt himself breathing easily for the first time in longer than he wanted to consider at the feeling of an alpha, especially one of such noble blood, taking care of him. “My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?”

The yet nameless alpha smiled at him. “Walk no more in the shadows, but awake!” said he. “You are weary. Rest a while, and take food, and be ready when I return.”

“I will, lord,” said Faramir, feeling a burden being lifted from him. “For who would lie idle when the king has returned?”

“Farewell then for a while!” said his king. “I must go to others who need me.” And then he left the chamber.

Faramir distantly heard Ioreth exclaim: “King! Did you hear that? What did I say? The hands of a healer, I said.” But he paid it no heed; he simply took comfort in the knowledge that the king had truly returned, a true king and alpha. He let out a soft breath, thinking of what one of his teachers had taught him about a traditional role of an omega of the line of the Stewards of Gondor. Perhaps it would not be such a hard task after all.

~*~

Aragorn breathed easier, relieved at having been able to save his dear, lost friend’s brother. With a glance at Éomer’s worried face, he turned his attention to Éowyn. He only briefly considered her maimed shield-arm but decided that it had been well tended. It was her sword-arm which worried him, the one with which she had dealt the blow that had defeated the Witch-King of Angmar. “It was an evil doom that set her in his path. For she is a fair omega, fairest lady of a house of queens. And yet I know not how I should speak of her.” He considered how he had first met her and how he had felt that, touched by frost as she was, it might be far too soon that he would be grieving her death. “Her malady begins far back before this day, does it not, Éomer?” he asked.

“I marvel that you should ask me, lord,” he answered. “For I hold you blameless in this matter, as in all else; yet I knew not that Éowyn, my sister, was touched by any frost, until she first looked on you. Care and dread she had, and shared with me, in the days of Wormtongue and the king’s bewitchment; and she tended the king in growing fear. But that did not bring her to this pass!”

“My friend,” said Gandalf, “you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of an omega, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him falling into a mean dishonoured dotage; and her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on. For it is an omega’s instinct and duty to defend their home and family and while she has the strength to protect her family from outside forces seeking to attack their bodies, her duty left her defenceless against the poison from within.

“Think you that Wormtongue had poison only for Théoden’s ears?” He reminded them of the words Saruman, the teacher of Wormtongue, had spoken and how Éowyn had surely had been fed such poisonous words, hidden in harmless conversation, for a long time yet had not spoken of such feeling to anyone, out of love and duty to her family.

Éomer balled his fist, struck by the feelings of helplessness and failure. It was his duty to see to her happiness and safety thrice over: as alpha, as elder brother and as Lord of their house. And yet he could not deny that Aragorn and Gandalf spoke true: she had been wounded long before this battle.

“I saw also what you saw, Éomer,” said Aragorn. “Few other griefs amid the ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for an alpha’s heart than to behold the love of an omega so fair and brave that cannot be returned.” He remembered the sorrow and pity he had felt when he had left her desperate in Dunharrow, sorrow and pity for her but, secretly, also the fear for himself that the flame of love that had been kindled on their quest but brutally snuffed out just as quickly had left his heart and soul scarred, too scared to reach out to another again. It had not been too immediate a fear, for he knew that Éowyn loved in him only a shadow and a thought: a way out of her ignoble situation which would let her be true to her instinct and duty yet also her bright spirit.

Turning his attention back to his patient, he said: “I have, maybe, the power to heal her body, and to recall her from the dark valley. But to what she will awake: hope, or forgetfulness, or despair, I do not know. And if to despair, then she will die, unless other healing comes which I cannot bring. Alas! for her deeds have set her among the omegas of great renown.”

Aragorn kissed her brow and called to her, as he had to Faramir, calling as both a lord and an alpha. Yet he felt that it was harder this time, for there had been a connection to Faramir, born both from being his true king and the love Aragorn held for the young omega’s family, that was missing with Éowyn. So he laid her hand in Éomer’s and stepped away. “Call her!” he said, and silently left the chamber.

~*~

Next Aragorn went to see Merry, who had been wounded as well when he had aided Éowyn in taking down the Witch-King of Angmar. His heart went out to Pippin when he saw the fear in his eyes. “Do not be afraid,” said he soothingly. “I came in time, and I have called him back. He is weary now, and grieved, and he has taken a hurt like the Lady Éowyn, daring to smite that deadly thing. But these evils can be amended, so strong and gay a spirit is in him. His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom.” Then he reached out to his fellow alpha, one who had, no matter his size, gained his respect for the strength of his spirit.

Pippin swallowed down tears of happiness when, true to Aragorn’s words, Merry awoke and said: “I am hungry. What is the time?”

“Past supper-time now,” said Pippin; “though I daresay I could bring you something, if they will let me.” And if they wouldn’t, he would find a way to bring him something regardless. He would do whatever necessary to take care of Merry until his dear friend recovered, and, he secretly hoped, until the day they drew their last breathes.

Aragorn left them to it, but not before jesting with Merry when he asked for his pack. He and Gandalf instructed the Warden of the Houses of Healing, then went to sup. Afterwards, when men came and prayed that he would heal their kinsmen and friends, he did so, aided by Elrond’s sons. Yet all the while he travelled through the White City, he always felt beside him the shadow of the one who he had dreamed of entering the city with.[1]

~*~

When Faramir woke again, he found his old teacher, the loremaster Argon, sitting in a chair beside his bed. “Where is the king?” asked he.

“So it is true what they saying on the streets of Gondor,” said Argon, “the king has returned. The people have wondered if it had been but a dream.”

“No, he was here. He called me back from the darkness and healed me,” said Faramir. “I looked upon him and knew him to be the king, having returned to take his place at long last.”

Argon considered the man who had once been his most eager pupil, then inclined his head. “I feel that you are right. But tell me, young Steward, do you remember what I have taught you about the Line of the Kings and the Line of the Stewards?”

Faramir nodded. “I remember.” It had been one of the lessons he had learned in secret, for his father Denethor, even before madness had taken him, had forbidden it to be taught. But Argon had not heeded him, saying that he was certain that Faramir would experience the king’s return.

One of the lessons, Argon had said, was all the more important to Faramir for what he was. He had told him of the tradition that went back to the time of King Minardil when the House of Húrin had become the family the Stewards of Gondor were chosen from. In order to secure the loyalty of the family, King Minardil and Húrin of Emyn Arnen had decided that, was an omega born to the House of Húrin, an alpha of the House of Anárion might ask for a mating to be arranged with the omega.

“Your father might not have wanted to see it but tales of the time of the Kings of Gondor have survived in the minds of the people. The matings are one of them,” said Argon. “The people already believe him to be the king, for he has already proven true the saying ‘The hands of the king are the hands of a healer’. But it would secure both his position and your own if you were to become his mate.”

“I have thought the same,” agreed Faramir. “I know not if there can be love between us but I believe him to be a kind alpha, so if there is no other he has claimed, I would not mind having him as mate. In truth, I think I can hardly find a better one.” He smiled at his teacher but his heart was heavy, for in all the years since his majority, never had any alpha shown interest in mating him, only bedding him. There was no alpha in Gondor he felt drawn to, so a political mating with the kind king seemed no hardship.

~*~

Faramir was in the garden of the Houses of Healing with his cousin, Elphir of Dol Amroth, when the Warden brought the Lady Éowyn to them.

“My lords,” said the warden, “here is the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. She rode with the king and was sorely hurt, and dwells now in my keeping. But she is not content, and she wishes to speak to the Steward of the City.”

“Do not misunderstand him, lord,” said Éowyn. “It is not lack of care that grieves me. No houses could be fairer, for those who desire to be healed. But I cannot lie in sloth, idle, caged. I looked for death in battle. But I have not died, and battle still goes on.”

Elphir watched how, at a sign from Faramir, the Warden bowed and departed. “Would you have me give you privacy, lady?” he asked, knowing that sometimes omegas found it easier to speak without alphas, especially those who were strangers to them, around.

Éowyn hesitated for a moment, then said: “No need, I do not intend to take much of lord Faramir’s time.”

“Then tell me, lady, what would you have me do?” said Faramir. “I also am a prisoner of the healers.” He looked at her, and he was moved with pity, for he saw her sorrow and grief. Elphir too found himself moved by her grief and loveliness. He had often felt driven by his instincts to offer comfort when he had perceived unrest or sorrow in his omega siblings and cousin but the sudden tenderness and care he felt for the Lady Éowyn took him aback. Éowyn looked at them and saw the tenderness and compassion in their eyes. And yet she could tell that these two men, both alpha and omega, would outmatch any rider of the Mark in battle.

“What do you wish?” said Faramir again. “If it lies in my power, I will do it.”

“I would have you command this Warden, and bid him let me go,” she said. She kept her attention on the lord Faramir, a fellow omega, not looking at the alpha beside him, fearing that he might think her merely a wayward child.

“I myself am in the Warden’s keeping,” answered Faramir. “Nor have I yet taken up my authority in the City. But perhaps my cousin may help you, for it is his father who commands the City until I take up my authority or the king degrees otherwise.”

And so Éowyn turned to Elphir, hoping for help through his authority over the Warden, both as Captain and alpha.

But Elphir shook his head. “Nay, I fear I cannot help you, for this is his craft and therefore his authority. I would not disrespect him by challenging that.”

“But I do not desire healing,” she said. “I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died and has both honour and peace.”

“I can understand your frustration at having to stay behind, for I feel the same. But it is too late to follow the Captains, so we will have to endure,” said Faramir.

Quietly, more for Faramir’s ears that Elphir’s, Éowyn said: “But the healers would have me lie abed seven days yet. And my window does not look eastward.”

Faramir exchanged a look with his cousin, then smiled at her. “That can be amended. In this I will command the Warden. If you will stay in the houses in our care, lady, and take your rest, then you shall walk in this garden in the sun, as you will.”

Éowyn smiled at the two men and it seemed to them that something inside her had started to meld. It was this impression that gave Elphir the confidence to speak. “Lady, may I ask you something in regards to what you have said?”

Éowyn hesitated a moment but, since she had never shown weakness in front of an alpha, she nodded. “You may.”

“You are envious of Théoden for having peace and honour in death. Have you truly lost all hope of achieving both in life?” asked Elphir.

Éowyn looked down. “I fear that I have, for I cannot remember a time where I could hope for it, either for myself or my family.”

“What do mean? Has the darkness spread to Róhan so quickly without our knowing?” asked Faramir.

And Éowyn found herself telling someone, for the first time in her life, of her struggle when the health and mind of Théoden, the man she had loved as a father, had rapidly faded, how the role of caretaker had kept her from defender their country beside her brother and of how she had been too weak to defend her uncle from Gríma Wormtongue until Gandalf had arrived to do so.

Faramir and Elphir had listened quietly, feeling for her. When she ran out of words, Elphir said: “I understand now how you find it hard to hope for peace but I do not see why you seek honour when I cannot imagine more noble actions. How hard it must have been, to follow your duty though it all seemed hopeless. Such strength is admirable.”

“You speak of strength but I see it not. I was too weak to rid him Gríma’s poison. It took Gandalf to do that. And on the field of battle, I was too weak to keep him safe,” said Éowyn.

Faramir’s heart hurt for her. He did not think she was aware of it, but he felt that it was this perceived failure that kept her from being free of the shadow. For it was an omega’s instinctual duty to see to the happiness and safety of their home and family. Trying to cheer her up, he said: “I ask you not to judge having to rely on Gandalf and the king for change in fortune. For has it not been the same for us here in Gondor? For years we have been unable to stop the darkness from spreading, only able to slow it down. It is only thanks to Gandalf and the king that we have been able to win a battle.” When he recognized how she struggled with their words, he backed off. “But enough of such dark thoughts. Will you not walk with us in the light while we can?”

“I cannot. Shadows still lie on me still. But I thank you for making it that I need not keep to my chambers. And for your kind words,” said Éowyn, did tem a courtesy and walked away.

Faramir watched her leave, then turned back to Elphir, only to find him looking still to where she had entered the Houses of Healing. “Cousin,” said Elphir, “tell me, what do you know of her?”

Faramir smiled. “No more than you. Or perhaps even less for I was unconscious when the Rohirrin arrived. But let us go inside and ask the Warden.”

~*~

The Warden could not tell them much but he suggested they talk to the Halfling that had arrived with the Rohirrin. Faramir sent for him at once, curious if he knew the other three Halflings he had met and, if so, what his relationship was to them.

Merry was happy to tell them about Éowyn of Rohan but asked that, in return, Faramir tell him of his encounters with Sam and Frodo and with Pippin.

“I should ask most how my cousin Frodo and Sam were faring when you met them,” said Merry, “but I cannot help but worry more how Pippin fared here in Minas Tirith. I so hope it will help take my mind off of him riding to Mordor.”

“Is he your omega?” asked Elphir.

“We have not formalized it. In truth, I have not even asked him but I know him, in my heart of hearts, to be mine,” replied Merry. He looked from one of the men to the other. “Which makes it all the harder to know him fighting Sauron without me.”

“Do omega Halflings not fight?” asked Faramir.

“Halflings in general do not fight, not like you mean. The Shire is remote, both literally and metaphorically, from the strife of the other people, so there is no training in bearing arms, neither for alphas, betas nor omegas,” explained Merry.

“There are no wars between your people? For land, fame or wealth?” asked Elphir.

“Us hobbits are a simple folk: we value good food, peace and a good pipe weed over fame or wealth.” Merry laughed. “Our families would be appalled by our un-hobbit-like behaviour, going on an adventure as we did.”

Faramir smiled, glad to see his spirit rise. “Me thinks that there is much we can learn from you then.”

~*~

Five days passed, much of which Faramir spend in the garden of the Houses of Healing with Merry. They were often joined by Éowyn or Elphir but rarely at the same time, though both would as often look to the entrance to the garden as they would to the East. Faramir and Merry were amused by it and by the casual questions they would ask about the other but agreed not to mention it to them.

“It is a relief,” said Merry, when they were walking without them one day, “to see the Lady Éowyn return to the light and to see that she might yet find what she has truly been seeking.” His face turned wistful. “I believe Théoden would have been pleased with the match.” Then he shook his head, not wanting to get lost in his grief. “But tell me, is there an alpha you are waiting for?”

Faramir’s smile was forced. “There is not.” He did not say that there never had been one but instead added: “But there might be one for me when they return.” He felt darkness encroaching on his heart, thinking of his struggle to prove his worth as a warrior, of his loneliness when no alpha seemed to find him worthy enough to court.

But then suddenly a great wind rose and blew, that seemed to drive away the Shadow, letting Light leap forth and joy rekindle in the hearts of the people. And then came a great Eagle, flying from the East, bringing then news of the victory over the Darkness.

~*~

The days that followed were full of joy and celebration but also a busy time, for Gondor was preparing to greet their King.

Summons reached the city, calling Merry and Éowyn to journey and go to the host. But Éowyn would not go and she would not speak to any of them of her reasons. But they could see that she began to ail again.

 “It is my duty to come when my liege, King Éomer, is calling but I fear for the Lady Éowyn,” said Merry. “Her safety is my duty as well.”

“If you will agree, then my cousin and I will keep her company and try to draw her out again,” Elphir offered.

Merry nodded, not surprised by the offer. He knew that Elphir would protect her. What was more, Faramir might have better chances of convincing Éowyn to confide in him. “Then I will leave her in your care.”

Faramir inclined his head. “We thank you for your trust.” He smiled. “If we might make a request in turn?”

Merry looked confused. “Of course you may.”

“I would ask you to take into your care a young Guard of the Citadel whom I owe my life. Master Peregrin Took,” said Faramir.

Merry laughed. “I believe this I can promise as surely as you made yours.”

~*~

After they had seen Merry off, Faramir and Elphir went in search of the Lady Éowyn. They found her, once again walking in the garden of the Houses of Healing. Faramir motioned his cousin to let him talk to her alone first, then went to join her.

For a few moments, the two omegas walked in silence beside one another. Then he asked: “Will you not tell me, my Lady, why you tarry here instead of joining your brother?”

Éowyn shook her head. “I cannot.”

Faramir smiled gently. “Can you not tell me or can you not go?” When she just looked at him, at a loss for words, he said: “I think that you cannot go, for you would have to face the Lord Aragorn, by whom you’d hoped to be mated and thereby elevated above all others but who has only shown you pity. Yet I feel that there is a part of you that does not want to leave Minas Tirith.” He looked to the entrance of the garden where Elphir stood, waiting anxiously. Then he turned back to her with a smile. “Will you not talk to him?”

At length, Éowyn nodded. “I will.” She gave Faramir a small smile. “And I thank you.”

Faramir bowed, then went to his cousin.

Éowyn watched them exchange words. She did him a courtesy when he joined but waited for him to begin.

“I am glad that Minas Tirith is honoured for longer by your presence, “said Elphir at last, “but I also worry for I see the shadow return to your face.” He tried to capture her gaze but she kept looking into the distance.

“I also have to admit that I am relieved that you have not followed your brother’s summons. For how could I hope to win your attention when in the presence of the Lord Aragorn?”

Éowyn turned from him. “Spare me your pity!”

“It is not pity that you stir in my breast, though I will not deny that I felt compassion when I saw your grief and sorrow. I do not see why I should pity you, for you are a beautiful woman who has won renown, both as an omega and as a warrior for your deeds in the name of your uncle. Yet still I dare ask you to allow me to court you, for I felt drawn to you the moment we met. And were you neither sorrowful nor renowned for your deeds, I would not feel any less for you. I have never believed in the stories of recognising your mate at first glance but I feel I may have been mistaken. Have you not felt the same?”

Éowyn looked back to him and suddenly it seemed to her as if the sun had come out and she could at least see clearly the path. “I have,” she breathed, “and I would be pleased to be courted by you.”

And he pulled her in his arms and kissed her.

“Now, my dear cousin,” interrupted Faramir suddenly. “I do hope you plan to _court_ her, not just _mate_ her.” He smiled gently at their flustered yet happy looks. “But I wish you both the best.”

Éowyn embraced him. “I have to thank you again, my dear friend, for helping me find my way back to light and happiness.”

“I am glad that you have found it,” Faramir replied.

For a moment it almost seemed to her like a shadow had passed over his features but then Elphir stepped to their side and took her hand, and she forgot about it.

~*~

Faramir was back at the Houses of Healing for them to see how his wounds were healing. As he was putting his clothes back on, the door was junked open and a tall, blond alpha stormed in. “Sister, what is the meaning of this? I understand your sorrow and that you do not wish to face him but -” He suddenly stopped short, staring at Faramir in shock. “You are not my sister.” He shook his head. “I apologize. I had believed that my sister…” He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

Faramir looked around the room, only now becoming aware that it was the one Éowyn had first been staying in. He smiled, understanding who he was talking to. “You are correct. I am not the Lady Éowyn but if your wish, I can lead you to the rooms she is staying in, King Éomer.”

I do not wish to be a bother, Lord Faramir …”Éomer began.

“It is no bother,” said Faramir. “I was going to see her either way.”

“Then I would be honoured.” Éomer held the door open for him. “I hope you do not think badly of me for barging in and yelling. I meant no offence, not to my sister and certainly not to you.”

Faramir laughed. “I am both a younger sibling and a soldier. I understand that such yelling is not meant as an insult.”

Éomer was relieved, both because he felt that Aragorn would have had his head had Faramir been insulted and hurt, but also because he did not want him to think badly of him. “You know my sister?”

“Yes, my lord, we have often walked the gardens together with Merry, conversing to distract ourselves from the regret of having stayed behind.”

Éomer winced, thinking of stories his sister might have told about him.

“Éowyn is staying in a wing of the Citadel which has been prepared for the lords of Róhan to reside in for as long as you desire,” Faramir explained. “I hope you do not find it presumptuous,” he added.

“Not at all. I have agreed with the Lord Aragorn that I will remain here with my people for another week following his coronation,” replied Éomer.

“I am pleased to hear so. I was grieved that my father let relations to Rohan suffer as he did. I hope that we will once again be close allies,” said Faramir, then, with a shy glance at the king, added: “And I hope that I will have opportunity to learn more about your country and your people while you are staying in Gondor.”

“If you have questions, we will be happy to answer them,” Éomer assured him.

Faramir inclined his head. “I thank you, my lord.” He stopped in front of one of the doors. “This is the first of the chambers I have spoken of and the one the Lady Éowyn has chosen for herself,” he explained.

Éowyn quickly opened the door upon his knocking. “Faramir, my friend, what have the healers said?”

Faramir smiled, toughed by her concern. “They say that I am healing better and expected and may take up my duties again. But I also bring you news of rather a guest.”

Éowyn was surprised to see her brother. While she was pleased to see that he was unharmed, she also knew that his visit was unlikely to be as brother visiting his sister but rather as alpha and King visiting a disobeying omega and subject.

“I will take my leave to let you speak in private,” said Faramir. “I will also inform my cousin of King Éomer’s arrival.” He bowed and left them.

“I apologize, brother, for not obeying,” said Éowyn before Éomer could speak. “But I could not bear to see the Lord Aragorn’s pity for me.” She looked down then and smiled bashfully. “What is more, I could not stand to just leave behind the alpha I am hoping will mate me.”

The last remainders of Éomer’s anger where wiped away by the surprise over her admission. “You are being courted?”

Éowyn smiled happily. It was only now, seeing her filled with hope and happiness that Éomer truly perceived how burdened she had been. “Prince Elphir of Dol Amroth has asked to court me.” She looked her brother in the eye. “You may think me foolish, to agree to a courtship with an alpha who is hardly more than a stranger but I have felt a connection to him like I have never before.”

“You would be right had you told me sooner, yet now…” Éomer looked to the door. “I think you lucky to have found such love, sister.” Then he smiled. “Yet I trust you are aware that he will still have to convince me that he is worthy of my sister?”

Éowyn smiled brightly. “He will proof it.”

~*~

After further conversations with his sister, Éomer sent word to the host that he would remain in Minas Tirith until they were nearer to the city before rejoining them.

Éomer spent much of his time with Éowyn, rebuilding their bond which had suffered during the dark times without either of them being truly aware of it. Elphir would join them often, getting to know them both. Yet Éomer took care to reserve at least the meal time for Faramir, bringing him food from the kitchen or telling him stories about Rohan when they were eating with the others. And so Éomer remained in Minas Tirith until the eve of the day eagerly awaited by all of Gondor.

~*~

When the sun rose, the Captains of the West led the host towards the City to the sound of all the bells ringing. And so they came before the Gateway. There had no gates been set up again but a barrier was laid across the entrance to the City, and there stood men at arms in silver and black with long swords drawn. Before the barrier stood Elphir of Dol Amroth, Faramir of the Line of Stewards, and Húrin Warden of the Keys, and other captains of Gondor, and the Lady Éowyn of Rohan with Elfhelm the Marshal and many knights of the Mark; and upon either side of the Gate was a great press of people in raiment of many colours and garlands of flowers.

A hush fell upon all as out from the host stepped the Dúnedain in silver and grey; and before them came walking slow Lord Aragorn. With him were Éomer of Rohan, and the Prince Imrahil, and Gandalf robed all in white, and four small figures that many men marvelled to see. They started whispering among themselves, wondering at who they were. Those of the guards and of the helpers in the Houses of Healing were eager to tell what they knew, few though it was for many of them.

All fell silent when a single trumpet rang. And Faramir went forth with Húrin of the Keys and Elphir of Dol Amroth. Traditionally it would only have been the Steward, accompanied by the Warden of the Keys, who were to greet the new King. Given that Faramir was an omega, however, it had been decided that it would be prudent to have an alpha of his family by his side. There was no law in Gondor explicitly forbidding an omega from inheriting a title such as Steward but there were often traditionalists who insisted on it going instead to an alpha relative and refused to follow the omega’s lead until an official ruling decided the matter. In order to ensure that there would be no one contesting the Lord Aragorn’s ascension to the throne, they had agreed that Elphir would take on part of the traditional acts.

Elphir and Faramir met Aragorn and knelt. “The last in the Line of Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office,” said Faramir. And he held out a white rod; but Aragorn took the rod and gave it back, saying: “That office is not ended, and it shall be thine and thy family’s as long as my line shall last. Do now thy office!”

Faramir had to suppress a sigh of relief. It seemed his first impression of his King had been correct; he was kind to all and respected omegas enough to have one as his Steward. After his father’s reaction to his presenting as an omega, he had never expected to inherit the title. He felt honoured that the Lord Aragorn trusted him with the office but he knew that he would not have long to carry the title before having to give it up due to the tradition he had discussed with Argon.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. There was no time to think about it know. So he and his cousin stood up and after Elphir had stepped back, Faramir spoke in a clear voice: “Men of Gondor, hear now the Steward of this Realm! Behold! one has come to claim the kingship again at last. Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur’s son, Elendil’s son of Númenor. Shall he be alpha and king and enter into the City and dwell there?”

And all the host and all the people cried _yea_ with one voice.

“Men of Gondor, the loremasters tell that it was the custom of old that the king should receive the crown from his father ere he died; or if that might not be, that he should go alone and take it from the hands of his father in the tomb where he was laid. But since things must now be done otherwise, using the authority of the Steward, I have today brought hither from Rath Dínen the crown of Eärnur the last king, whose days passed in the time of our longfathers of old.”

Then guards stepped forward, carrying a great casket of black _lebethron_ bound with silver, and Faramir opened the casket and he held up an ancient crown.

The Aragorn took the crown and held it up and said: _Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn’ Ambar-metta!_ (Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.)

To the wonder of many and consternation of a few of the alphas present, Aragorn did not put the crown upon his head, but gave it back to Faramir and said: “By the labour and valour of many I have come into my inheritance. In token of this I would have the Ring-bearer bring the crown to me, and let Mithrandir set it upon my head, if he will; for he has been the mover of all that has been accomplished, and this is his victory.”

Frodo hesitated. He was to crown Aragorn, he, a simple omega from the Shire should crown the Alpha King of Gondor? It was only when he felt Sam coveredly squeeze his hand that he came forward and took the crown from Faramir and bore it to Gandalf; and Aragorn knelt, and Gandalf set the White Crown upon his head, and said: “Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!”[2

~*~

The week following Aragorn’s coronation was a busy time for him, much of it spent it audience with his subjects. Part of him relished being kept busy and therefore unable to spend much time with the other members of the Fellowship. He felt guilty for it yet it was also hard for him, seeing them happily paired off. No one had been surprised when one of Merry’s first actions upon reaching the Host had been to lay claim to Pippin, much to the young omega’s pleasure. Likewise, no one was much surprised to see Frodo and Sam acting much like an already mated couple, though they had not made it official yet. The pair that had been most unexpected, however, was Gimli and Legolas. Given the history between their races and their families, their friendship had already drawn stares and whispers. Their declaration that Legolas was allowing Gimli to court him had taken them all by surprise. They had sent letters north to their families with the happy news, leaving Gandalf to mutter something about fireworks far surpassing his own.

“Your majesty?” one of his advisors called from the open doorway. “May I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course,” Aragorn said, glad for the distraction.

“There is a Gondorian tradition I would like to talk to you about, concerning the Line of the King and the Line of the Stewards,” said Argon.

“Oh?”

“If an omega was born into the family of the Stewards, then they were promised to an alpha of the Line of the Kings. When both sons of Steward Denethor presented as omega, those of us still awaiting your return took it as a sign. And now we are proven right.”

“Both sons? Are you saying Boromir was an omega as well?” Aragorn asked.

“He was but Lord Denethor did not want an omega as heir, so he had him use a tonic that made him appear to be a beta. I do not know if Lord Boromir himself knew what the tonic truly was for,” said Argon.

“He did not,” said Aragorn, mostly to himself. The thought that Boromir had been an omega… It put a different spin on the tension that had been between them from the beginning and helped him understand why he had been drawn to protect and dote on someone who had seemed a beta.

“While his death is a great loss, it also means that you will not have to choose. Taking Faramir as a mate will serve both to satisfy those still aware of the old traditions as well as those who fear to once again have the line of Kings interrupted due to an unmated King,” Argon continued, obvious to Aragorn’s preoccupation.

Aragorn frowned. Mating Faramir? “I will have to speak to him first,” said he, not voicing his real thoughts. What about Éomer?

~*~

Éomer was sitting in Faramir’s office with the omega, talking about the traditions in their respective homelands.

“And what about courting traditions? Are there any specific traditions?” asked Faramir.

Éomer laughed. “Are you asking or your cousin?” he teased.

Faramir smiled. “I will not deny that he had been asking me for information, as well as for my opinion in regards to suitable gifts but I also ask to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“Then I would be honoured to satisfy it,” said Éomer. “Our courtings are not very complicated affairs. It is the alpha who does the courting, bringing their intended mate food to show that they can provide for a family and gifts to show that they know their mate-to-be well enough to satisfy their needs and desires.”

Faramir froze, looking at the food Éomer had brought once again, then to the books and little trinkets of Rohirrin origin he had gifted him with. His heart started to race. “You… you’re courting me,” he stammered.

Éomer smiled. “I am.” Then, when he saw Faramir’s devastated expression, he frowned and said: “What is the matter? Is my suit this unwelcome?”

“It isn’t,” Faramir forced out, unable to lie to Éomer.

“Then what-?”

“But tradition demands that I am mated to King Aragorn,” said Faramir.

Éomer froze. He felt torn. On the one hand, he felt a deep need to sooth the obviously distressed omega in front of him but at the same time, he wanted to challenge Aragorn, to force him to leave Faramir alone. Needing to calm down, he stood and left with an abrupt “Excuse me.”

When the door fell shut behind him, Faramir abandoned all attempts to hold back his tears.

~*~

Aragorn was walking back to his rooms, hoping for privacy to recover from the memories and feelings evoked by his conversation with Faramir when he was suddenly grabbed and thrown against the wall. He blinked, trying to orientate himself again and see who was attacking him. To his surprise, he found the Kind of Rohan standing in front of him, hands fisted in his collar. “Éomer?”

The blonde growled at him. “He’s mine.”

Aragorn raised his hands. The other king had obviously been overwhelmed by his instincts. “Yes, Faramir is yours,” he soothed. “I am not trying to take him.”

“I saw you,” Éomer growled, though reason was slowly returning to his gaze.

“What did you see?” Aragorn asked, relieved that Éomer was talking. He carefully glanced around, hoping that no guards were going to come across them before the other calmed.

“I saw you holding him,” said the King of Rohan.

“Oh.” Aragorn briefly closed his eyes. So he would have to talk it once again. But both Éomer and Faramir were good friends. If he had to relive painful memories for them to find the happiness they deserved, the happiness that had been denied to him, then he would do so. “Let me explain what happened.”

_Aragorn looked up when a servant finally returned with Faramir. “Send him in.” He stood, worried, when he noticed the young omega’s red eyes. “Faramir, what is the matter? Has something happened?”_

_Faramir shook his head. “No, my Lord. Please do not concern yourself.”_

_“You will find, my friend, that I find it quite difficult not to concern myself with the troubles of others,” said Aragorn. “But come, let us go out in the garden. We can talk just as well there and the fresh air might do you good.”_

_Faramir nodded wordlessly, then allowed Aragorn to lead him outside._

_“Argon has come to speak to me,” said Aragorn. “I believe you know why.”_

_“Yes, my Lord,” Said Faramir quietly._

_“Faramir, I wish to hear your true opinion. Do you want to be my mate?” asked Aragorn._

_“According to the tradition…”_

_“No,” Aragorn interrupted, “I ask what you yourself wish, not what tradition demands of us. I will not begin my line’s reign by repeating the mistakes of the last Kings of Numénor and force an unwilling omega to be my mate, a mate who already loves another.” When he saw Faramir still hesitate, he added gently: “Do not fear giving a wrong answer for there is none. If it helps, I will admit that I do not see you as a potential mate. Before I even met you, I had begun to call you brother and though that is not to be anymore, I still only see you thus. So tell me, who is it you truly wish to be your mate?”_

_Once again, tears filled Faramir’s eyes. “I love Éomer,” he finally admitted._

_Aragorn reached for his hands. “Then he is who will be your mate.”_

_“But the tradition…”_

_“…says that you shall be mated to an alpha of the King’s Line. I discussed the matter with Gandalf and there is nothing saying that it has to be the line of the Kings of Gondor.”_

_“But what about you? Will they not urge you to take a mate?” asked Faramir._

_“Then I will have to tell them about the omega I was preparing to claim, who perished in this war,” said Aragorn, grief of remembrance choking him._

_Faramir swallowed. “Thank you.” Unable to restrain himself, he hugged Aragorn. In a whisper, he added: “I would have welcomed calling you brother.”_

“So you see, he is yours,” Aragorn concluded.

“Oh.” Éomer took a step back, colouring with shame. “I… apologize. I…”

“I understand,” said Aragorn kindly. “Seeing the omega you courted and feel of as yours in the arms of another…”

“I… hope my actions have not damaged our kingdoms’ relationship. Or our friendship,” said Éomer.

“Not at all.” Aragorn smiled. “It also does not change my decision to allow you to take Faramir as your mate.”

Éomer slumped in relief. “Thank you, my friend. I’m afraid that, as I am to be King of Rohan, our wedding will have to wait until after my coronation and have to follow the Rohirrin traditions. Yet…” He glanced at Aragorn. “Please do not think me insolent but I need to... have certainty that he is mine before I can leave him.”

Aragorn grinned. “You will have to ask Faramir what he is willing to give. But you have my blessing, even if he allows you to claim him.”

Éomer smiled brightly. He turned to leave for Faramir’s rooms, only just remembering to thank Aragorn again.

The brunet watched him leave. He was happy for them but it was bittersweet. If only he had had a chance for this happiness as well… He might have to follow Gandalf’s suggestion that he speak to Bilbo who had experienced something similar, though, according to Gandalf “at least he had a part of his mate he took with him”.

 

~~~~~~~ Part 2 ~~~~~~~

Arwen had left Lothlórien for Gondor the previous day. Though her grandparents had originally been supposed to travel with them, Galadriel had suddenly decided that they would travel by another path and only rejoin them shortly before they were to reach Minas Tirith. So it was only the elves of Imladhris who were riding down along the shores of the Anduin. Suddenly one of the guards leading the Escort came riding back to them. “My Lady!” he called out.

“What is the matter? Are there still forces of the Enemy around?” Arwen asked.

“No but there is a wounded man lying on the shore,” he reported.

“Bring me to him,” said she.

Arwen followed him to where other guards were still standing around a human male, laying unconscious on the shore. She quickened her step, worried for whoever he was. When she got a good look at his face, however, she stopped short.

“Arwen?” her father asked, having followed her.

She knew that they had to help him. After all, they were allies and, as far as she knew, he had been wounded protecting others from orcs. Though they had heard that he had been killed. How was it then that he was back here and alive, if wounded? Perhaps this was a sign, a sign that his story was not over yet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They would help him. Even if it meant that her own, personal future would be unclear again because of him.

“Arwen?” Elrond repeated.

“We need to heal him and bring him along with us to Minas Tirith,” she said. Quieter, she continued: “It is our duty to bring him back to Gondor, to his destined place.” She kept her head tilted down though her gaze was on the path she had chosen at this crossroad, the path that would not only bring her to Minas Tirith but also Boromir of Gondor, her fiancé’s ideal mate.

~*~

Over the next couple of days, Boromir’s health improved greatly, thank to the care of both Elrond and Arwen, though he was still to wake.

Elrond had tried to talk to his daughter about the changes Boromir’s presence and his more and more probable survival brought for all their future but she always evaded him successfully. He wanted her to be happy, of course, but the thought that her marriage to Aragorn would ultimately leave her mortal greatly pained him. His brother’s choice had already hurt him. That his daughter was now about the make the same choice was hard to bear. So if his hope that the survival of Boromir, the ideal mate to Aragorn, would change Arwen’s fate made his work harder… well, no one would know.

His musings were interrupted when he noticed Boromir’s head move and his eyes flutter.

Boromir slowly opened his eyes, confused by his pain and his surroundings. “Where…” he croaked.

Elrond quickly moved to his side, leaning over him so he could see his face. “Peace, Son of Gondor, you are safe.” He carefully helped him to sit up slightly and sip some water. Even without his mother-in-law’s ability to see into the minds of others, he could tell the moment Boromir remembered what would have been his last moments. “You have been returned and given a second chance by the grace of the Valar,” he explained calmly. “The Ring is destroyed, the War is over.”

“The others… my family… are they…?”

“The other members of the Fellowship have all survived and are recovering well, as is your brother.” Elrond hesitated a moment. “Your father… I fear his mind was… affected by Sauron’s powers. He did not survive.”

Boromir closed his eyes. “I… felt it, feared it. His mind… his personality… they have been slipping for years,” he said, trying to keep his composure.

Elrond turned away and started clearing away some of his healing supplies, giving him privacy. After a moment, he said: “We are on our way to Minas Tirith. We have left Lothlórien almost a week ago and will soon arrive in Rohan where we will meet with my sons. From there we will continue to Gondor.”

“Gondor…” Boromir murmured.

“But we can talk more about our destination later. For now you should rest and regain your strength.”

~*~

Boromir followed Elrond’s orders in as far as he remained on the makeshift bed they had prepared for him but his thoughts did not allow him to truly rest. They were on the way to Minas Tirith, on the way to see the Fellowship. On the one hand, he was pleased to return home and to see them all again. Yet on the other hand, he could not help his apprehension when he thought of their reaction to his return. He wanted to believe that they would welcome him back but he feared that his last actions, the way he had fallen under the spell of the Ring, had coloured their memory of him too much for that. The only time he was even remotely able to relax was when he thought of his last moments before what he had assumed to be his death. Just the memory of acknowledging Aragorn as his alpha, friend and king and of Aragorn’s kiss to his forehead left him feeling more warm and safe than ever before in his life.

Of course, this led him to his next problem. Having thought he were about to die, he had admitted, at least to himself, that he loved Aragorn. But while it might not be unheard for a male alpha and a male beta or two male betas serving as soldiers together to form a relationship outlasting their military careers, matters were different for a King and a Steward. Even if Aragorn returned his feelings, he could not give him the heirs he needed, unlike Elrond’s beta daughter, Arwen, who, he remembered, was already Aragorn’s fiancée. So was it not better if he just kept his silence about his feelings?

But he wondered if he would be able to. He had never before felt so strong an attraction as to Aragorn. Could he really ignore it and watch him start a family with Arwen? Already the guilt was crushing him whenever it was Arwen caring for him. So would it not be better if he just stayed away, if he remained dead to them?

~*~

Elrond and Arwen were relieved when Elladan and Elrohir met them and invited them to visit Edoras. While Boromir had mostly recovered physically in the past two weeks, his mental state worried them. Neither of them had Galadriel’s gift for seeing into people’s hearts and minds and therefore were not sure what it was that was troubling him. Now they regretted agreeing to her taking another way to Minas Tirith. They hoped that being with other humans would help Boromir.

They were not the only one’s having high hopes for their stay in Edoras. Gamling, who was now serving as King Éomer’s advisor, had confided to his mate that he hoped that the presence of Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen and the surprise of Boromir’s survival would distract Éomer and Éowyn from their brooding and pining. Of course it was understandable that they missed their soon-to-be mates but as it stood, he worried that they would not be able to wait another month before they just up and left for Minas Tirith. Hopefully the surprise and the possibility to spend time with a relative of their partners would curb the urgency enough for them to wait.

~*~

After they had been greeted and offered refreshments, Éowyn invited Arwen along outside, curious about the beta betrothed to Aragorn, while Éomer asked Boromir for a private conversation, probably to once again ask for permission to mate Faramir, late though it was now.

Éowyn was interested to find that Arwen, much as she herself, did not much care for the expectations of some alphas or male betas who wanted a demure little pet instead of a partner. Finally she could not contain her curiosity any longer. “Is this why you have agreed to be Lord Aragorn’s wife?”

“I will admit that the knowledge that he respects my strength was one of the reasons for my decision. But as romantic as some of my escort might find the idea of my marrying him, the decision was more a rational one. After all, I am a beta. While there might be attraction between alpha and beta or omega and beta, there will never be the same connection as between an alpha and their ideal omega mate,” said Arwen.

“You believe that there is such a thing as an ideal mate?” Éowyn asked.

Arwen smiled gently. “Do you not?”

Éowyn blushed, thinking of Elphir. “I am beginning to.”

Arwen watched her, her smile turning bittersweet. She envied her the connection she had to her mate. Hopefully, at some point it the future, she would also find someone to at least somewhat fill the hole in her heart. In order not to think about it more, she continued: “I have always felt closer to the Edail than to the Eldar, so I knew that, when the time would come for me to choose, I would choose the fate of men.

“Being Aragorn’s queen… it seemed almost fated, back when I started to consider my choice. He and I care deeply for one another and being queen of Gondor would have allowed me to keep the freedom I am used to while still allowing me to be part of the side I have chosen.”

“What do you plan to do now?” asked Éowyn.

“I do not know. My father, I know, thinks that I will revoke my choice now that Aragorn will marry Boromir but as I said, our engagement was but a small part of my decision,” replied Arwen. “I will talk to Aragorn when we reach Minas Tirith. We are still like family, so I expect I will have a place in Gondor, even without our marrying.”

Éowyn nodded thoughtfully, gaze travelling into the distance.

It was thus that she noticed her brother approaching, rubbing his head as if it were hurting. “My brother, are you unwell?” she asked.

“No, dear sister, I am well, do not worry. It is simply confusing, speaking with Boromir. He is beginning to register as an omega yet acts still like a beta.” He turned to Arwen. “Have you not told him what he really is?”

“We figured that it was a subject better left to his family and teachers, who would also be better able to answer any questions he might have,” said Arwen.

Éomer frowned. “I understand your reasoning but I also think it is just as well that you will soon be in Minas Tirith. He has just asked me for permission to remain in Rohan.”

Arwen and Éowyn exchanged startled looks. “What did you reply?” asked Éowyn.

“I convinced him that he should at least go see his family and to stay there until we return to Minas Tirith for Théoden’s funeral and my marriage. It is not that I would mind his support here but I owe it to Aragorn to give him at least the opportunity of finding the happiness he has allowed me,” said Éomer.

“You do not think that Lord Boromir will agree to be Aragorn’s mate?” Arwen asked.

“I do not know. I hope he will but we cannot be sure how he will react to learning that he is an omega,” replied Éomer. Seeing his sister frown, he added: “I do not mean to belittle you or suggest that being an omega means being somehow less but it will definitely change his future from what he has always expected it to be. He will have to decide what his path will be now. I just hope, for both Aragorn’s and Faramir’s sake, that he will find it in Minas Tirith.”

~*~

They reached Minas Tirith on Midsummer’s Day. The streets were filled with people celebrating. There were quite some curious glances when they passed but, since some of the Elves that had fought on the Fields of Pelennor and in front of the Black Gate were still staying in Minas Tirith, the people of Gondor did not think anything of other Elves arriving.

Boromir kept to the middle of the group, taking care to conceal his features so he would not be recognized.

When they had reached the Sixth Level and there given their horses into the care of the stable hands, they were met by Gandalf, who led them to the Citadel where Aragorn and Faramir were talking with the advisors before joining the festivities. Aragorn smiled when he saw them and came to greet them.

Elrond returned his foster son’s greeting, then added: “We have brought an unexpected traveller with us who, I am certain, you will be glad to see.” With that he led him to where Boromir was keeping in the background.

For a moment, Aragorn could do nothing but stare, sure that he must be dreaming. The silence stretched to the point that Boromir started fidgeting, afraid that his fears regarding their feelings were true but then Aragorn crossed the distance with two great strides and pulled him into his arms. “Boromir!” he exclaimed. “It is wonderful to see you but tell me, how is this possible? We have seen you die.”

Boromir was about to shrug in answer but then thought better of it, afraid it would make Aragorn let go of him. “I do not know. Lord Elrond said that it might be by the grace of the Valar that I am given a second chance,” he replied.

Aragorn was about to ask more but then he noticed Argon approach, a calculating look in his eyes, so he said instead: “Your brother can accompany you to your rooms so you can freshen up before going to the festivities. I will join you in a moment.”

Boromir hesitated, surprised to find himself so suddenly send from the room.

Aragorn smiled gently. “I promise you, Boromir, I will be with you quickly.”

Faramir stepped forward and took Boromir’s arm. “Come, brother, there is much for us to talk about,” he said.

Arwen watched her fiancé watch Boromir leave, then said in Sindarin. “I hope you are happy.”

Aragorn turned to look at her. “I am. Whatever he decides.”

“I am happy for you. But tell me, please, how will his decision influence my place?” she asked.

Switching to Westron, Aragorn said gravely: “You will have a place here in Gondor, no matter if Boromir will agree to be my mate or not.” The latter was addressed to his advisors.

“Your Majesty…” Argon began.

“No. I have told you already: I will not force a mating on some unwilling.” There mere thought of being rejected by Boromir hurt but he had to be clear. “I will not start my reign by repeating the mistakes of the last Kings of Numénor. We will talk about it further tomorrow but for today this council session is over.” Then he left, eager to rejoin Faramir and Boromir.

Elrond was still staring at his daughter, shocked. He had thought that, now that a mating with Aragorn was unlikely to occur, Arwen would come with them to Valinor. “Arwen…” he started, reaching for her, but Galadriel intercepted his hand. “No, Elrond. Arwen’s fate lies here, in Gondor, where she will unite all Lines of Peredhel.”

~*~

Aragorn found the two brothers sitting in Boromir’s rooms. He spared a moment to be thankful that he had not yet had the heart to order the rooms to be cleared. When he saw Boromir’s shocked expression, he frowned and looked to Faramir in question, but he could only shrug helplessly. They understood that the knowledge of his true gender and the tradition related to it was a shock to Boromir but they did not know how to help him.

“Boromir,” Aragorn called gently, trying to get his attention.

The younger man started, not having noticed him enter. For a moment, he stared at him, then he slowly, awkwardly bared his throat in the old way of an omega submitting to their alpha. “My lord,” he whispered.

Aragorn cupped his cheek, gently tilting his face up again so that he could look him in the eyes. “No, my friend, wait. I will not force your submission, neither as King nor as alpha. I am sure your brother has told you about the old tradition between your House and mine and, either way, the advisors surely will soon. But, as I have told them, I will not demand it of you. In fact, I will leave it up to you whether you wish to keep living as a beta.”

Boromir just stared at him, not sure whether to feel relieved or hurt by his words. Frustrated with himself, he shook his head. “I do not know yet. May I think on it?” he asked.

“Of course you may,” Aragorn assured him, forcing himself to step back.

Boromir wanted to draw him back but instead just nodded. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me, my friend,” Aragorn replied. “Will you join us outside for the festivities?”

Boromir hesitated. “I do not think so. I am tired from my travels.”

Aragorn nodded, fighting to keep his smile. “I see. Then I will see you tomorrow.”

Faramir waited until he had left, then turned to his brother. “Would you like me to stay with you?” he asked.

“No, you go on. We can talk more over the next few days,” Boromir said.

Faramir regarded him a moment longer, then complied.

~*~

It was already late, the sun having almost set, but Boromir was still walking alone through the citadel, as he had done the last couple of days. During the day, he spent time with Faramir and the members of the Fellowship, acting as if nothing had changed. It was only here, wandering alone in his childhood home, that he allowed himself to truly think about the choice he faced. It still seemed like a dream that, after all those weeks of trying to overcome his feelings for Aragorn, he was now not only able to take him as his mate but practically promised to him. Yet he also feared the changes being mated to an alpha would bring. How would the people react when the learned that he was not a beta? What about his fellow soldiers, the men he’d fought beside and who he had led into battle so often? He had seen how hard it had been for Faramir to gain the same respect he had received. Would he have to gain their respect anew? Would he even be allowed to fight again?

There was also the matter of his family’s legacy. The alcohol freely flowing at the celebrations for the victory of Mordor had loosened the Guards’ tongues to the point that they had told of how Denethor, in his last moments, had cursed their king and tried to set both himself and Faramir on fire. Would this knowledge influence their acceptance of him as Aragorn’s mate?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard someone call his name. Surprised, he turned to find his brother standing behind him. “Faramir, what are you doing here?” Boromir asked. “Is something the matter?”

“I was looking for you,” Faramir replied.  “Brother, you do know that I am always willing to listen, do you not?”

Boromir started. “I…” he hesitated, then said truthfully. “I do not wish to trouble you. After all, you have your wedding to prepare for.”

“There is not much preparation for me to do. Most will be prepared by Éomer and his advisors as we are to be wed according to the traditions of Rohan, even if the festivities will take place here. In fact, I would be grateful for something to take my mind off the wait for my mate’s return,” said Faramir. He reached for his brother’s hand. “In the past we have always confided in one another. I thought to have lost that when I received the vision of your death. Now you are back but you still keep your distance. Yet I can see that you are troubled.” After a moment, he asked quietly: “Do the news of your being an omega distress you so?”

“No, brother, not the way you mean,” Boromir reassured him. “Come, let us go to my chambers and I will see if I can put my troubles into words.”

They walked in silence. Even when they reached the privacy of Boromir’s rooms, he remained quiet for moments longer, at a loss for words, but Faramir waited patiently.

“It is not the thought of being an omega itself that troubles me,” Boromir assured him again. “It is rather the matter of what it will mean for our family. If both of us re to wed alpha kings, what will it mean for the Line of Stewards? And what of our positions as leaders of the Army of Gondor? I know that many of Aragorn’s advisors wish to see me mated to him but would this really be his choice? After all he is promised to Lord Elrond’s daughter. And would the people even accept me, given our father’s madness?”

Faramir let him rant, waiting until he ran out of words. “I cannot answer all your questions but some of these fears have I had myself, at least until I spoke to Lord Elessar and Gandalf. Before I accepted Éomer’s suit, Our King promised me that I might retain all rights and duties of a Steward, including serving as commander of the Army. If you reject him, the same will surely be true for you. If you become his mate, I believe the same rules he has submitted to will apply to you as well.”

“Which rules are you speaking of?” asked Boromir.

“Given the fate of his predecessor as King of Gondor, the advisors have requested that, unless there is no other option, he is to remain in Minas Tirith during military conflicts until an heir is born. Éomer has agreed to a similar rule, though his advisors are less worried given that Éowyn has accepted Elphir as her mate.”

“Has there been talk of who will take the title of Steward of Gondor if you become the mate of the King of Rohan?”

“Of course there was. If, for whatever reason, the title cannot pass to you, then our cousin on our father’s side will take it but Éomer has told me that Lord Elessar has suggested it pass to my second born who will also inherit the title of Prince of Ithilien.

“As for our father’s action,” Faramir swallowed, trying not to think about what he had been told has happened, “I have not heard of anyone truly considering either of us to be connected or in danger of inheriting his madness.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. I do not wish you to be resented as Royal Consort,” said Boromir.

“What of you? Do you not wish to have Lord Elessar as your mate?” asked Faramir.

“I am… uncertain,” Boromir replied.

Faramir frowned but decided to accept it for now. Still, he promised himself that he would encourage his brother to discuss his choice with him more often. Perhaps then he would finally admit to whatever kept him from following his heart.

~*~

Days passed without Boromir making his choice. He knew that Aragorn’s advisors were growing more impatient by the hour but he kept them from pressuring Boromir. The prospect of facing them, still without an answer, made breakfast often tense, though Faramir, Merry and Pippin did their best to break the tension.

It was therefore all the more noticeable when one day Faramir arrived so late that they had always finished already, looking pale and tired.

Aragorn stood and quickly went to see to who he still considered a brother, no matter Boromir’s final decision. “Faramir, are you feeling unwell?” he asked worriedly.

“It is nothing too worrisome, my Lord,” Faramir replied, enjoying the care of a familial alpha. “I felt sick when I woke but I am better already.”

Aragorn was about to ask more question, the role of healer still more accustomed than those of king, when he noticed a change in Faramir’s scent. He smiled gently. “I agree that there is nothing to worry about but I believe congratulations to you and Éomer are in order.”

Faramir looked confused. “Congratulations? But why…” He stopped short when he understood. “But how is this possible? I… I was not in heat when Éomer…” He trailed off, blushing.

Arwen came closer, smiling gently. “It is not unheard of for an omega to be more fertile when being claimed by a compatible alpha,” she explained.

Faramir moved his hand to his abdomen without conscious thought. “A child,” he whispered.

“A child,” Aragorn confirmed, laying an arm around Faramir’s shoulders.

Boromir watched the three of them. He was happy for his brother, happy that he would soon be an uncle. Yet he could hardly think of that, not with the vision of the family standing in front of him, only Éomer missing. On their way to Minas Tirith, he had wondered if he would be able to stand seeing Aragorn and Arwen build a family. Now he knew he couldn’t. He stood abruptly and stormed out of the room, unable to stand the sight of what might be.

He had not gone far when he was grabbed by the arm and turned around to face his king. “Boromir, what has got into you? Are you not happy for your brother?”

“I am. I did not mean to give the impression that… I will speak to him later,” Boromir said, avoiding Aragorn’s eyes.

“Then what has you so distressed?” Aragorn asked gently.

Unable to keep quiet any longer, Boromir exclaimed: “I cannot stand seeing what will be my future.”

Aragorn pulled his hand back as if burned and stumbled back. “Boromir, I swear to you, you will not be forced to submit to an alpha, not to me or any other,” he said urgently.

Boromir turned away. “Yes, I know that you wish to take the Lady Arwen as your mate.”

Aragorn started. “Arwen? What do you mean? How does this concern her?”

“It concerns her for you will be able to take her as your mate instead of having to settle for me because of old traditions.” He looked over his shoulder at Aragorn. “I wish for you to be able to follow your heart and find happiness but I cannot watch you with another for the rest of my life. So I will accompany Faramir to Rohan and settle there.” Then he started to leave.

“How am I to find happiness if the man I love is leaving?”

Boromir stopped short at his words. “What… what are you talking about?” he asked, not daring to turn around yet.

“I have wished for a possibility to take you as my mate and Consort since shortly after we met. Learning that you are alive and an omega seemed like my wish being fulfilled. Yet, like you, I love you too much to see you unhappy, so I did not speak of it, fearing that you might feel obligated to accept my suit.” Aragorn slowly approached him. “But it seems that, by trying to protect one another, we have instead hurt each other.” He reached out, laying his hands on Boromir’s shoulders. “So let me ask you what I should have asked the day you returned to us, returned to me: Boromir, son of Denethor, will you allow me to court you?”

“No.” Boromir quickly turned around and held onto Aragorn’s hands before he could step back. “Why would I need you to court me when I have already chosen?”

Aragorn laughed in relief. “Then I should ask another question but I fear that the announcement would overshadow the celebration of your brother’s wedding and pregnancy. Will you wait another week?”

“Always,” Boromir replied, leaning forward for the first kiss he had dreamed of for so long.

~~~~ Epilogue ~~~~~

The Kingdom was overjoyed to be able to celebrate another wedding soon, when King Aragorn Elessar wed Lord Boromir. The celebrations lasted for weeks during a golden October which, to the people of Gondor, seemed to herald the start of a new age of peace and prosperity for them and all of Middle-Earth.

The people of Rohan, in their turn, eagerly awaited the end of winter, when the heir to the throne of Rohan was to be born. When the news came that Royal Consort Faramir had born Éomer a son, Elfwine Prince of Rohan, who would join his father on the throne as the second King of the Third Line of Rohan, there were great celebrations in Rohan, as well as in Gondor and the Shire.

The only dark point in these times of celebrations was when, one year later, the Ring Bearers passed over the sea. Elrond was grieved to have to leave his daughter behind but had learned by now that she had made her choice and would not be swayed.

It was harder for Sam to understand that Frodo was leaving him and their daughter Elanor, who had the same golden hair as her bearer’s bearer, to depart for Valinor. He was only brought out of his grief upon the birth of the son and heir of Aragorn Elessar and Boromir, Eldarion, named thus for the Elven blood running through both Aragorn’s and Boromir’s veins, for Aragorn was heir of the Chieftains of the Dúnedain, who were themselves descendants of the Kings of Arthedain, one of successor kingdoms of Arnor, which was founded by Elendil, son of Amandil, Lord of Andúnië and descendant of the Kings of Númenor, the first of which had been Elros Tar-Minyatur, son of Eärendil and Elwing and brother of Elrond Peredhel, while Boromir’s mother, Finduilas, was the daughter of Adrahil II, twenty-first Prince of Dol Amroth in the Line of Galador, son of Imrazôr, a Gondorian Prince of Belfalas, and Mithrellas, a wandering companion of Nimrodel. Still it took him years and the help and support of his friends for him to accept it and to follow Frodo’s suggestion of taking Rose Cotton as second wife. No one was surprised when, upon his election as Mayor of Michel Delving in the year 6 of the Fourth Age, he assumed an unprecedented number of responsibilities and projects, which served both to distract him but also helped the Shire prosper. After he had been elected a second time in 13, King Elessar made the Mayor, the Thain and the Master of Buckland, the latter two of which had in the meantime been inherited by Merry and his mate Pippin, Counsellors of the North-kingdom. When Sam questioned him, he only replied that, though for him it had not even been a year in which he’d thought his omega lost to him, he could understand his pain and would rather he borrowed his pain in work than any other, more drastic way he might conceive of.

In 61, Royal Consort Boromir invited Sam for a visit and gave him a letter Frodo had written before his departure. Frodo had made him promise not to give it to Sam for as long as Rose Cotton, Sam’s second wife, lived. As she had died earlier that year, and since he felt that he had not much longer to live, he gave it to him then. In the letter, Frodo admitted to having left because the pain he had still been carrying, both from the Ring and the Nazgul blade, and the guilt of succumbing to the lure of the Ring in those last moments before its destruction had made him feel undeserving of their love and unable to give them what they deserved. Shortly after giving Sam the letter, just days after the sixty-third anniversary of his wedding, Boromir, son of Denethor, died at the age of 104. His husband Aragorn Elessar chose to join him before the end of the year. Their son Eldarion and his wife Arwen were crowned on the first day of the New Year.

Sam returned to the Shire, where he visited each of his children in turn. Last he visited Elanor and gave her the Red Book he had received from Frodo at the end of the Third Age. At the border of the Shire, he found Merry, Pippin, Legolas and Gimli already waiting for him. Together they rode to the Grey Havens. There, Legolas, Gimli and Sam boarded the last Ship to leave for Valinor, while Merry and Pippin turned east. They came to Edoras, where they spend time with King Éomer before he died. Then they continued on to Gondor, where they died later that year and were laid to rest beside Aragorn Elessar and Boromir.

Legolas had not decided lightly to leave Middle-earth, even though the memory of the call of the gulls never left him, for he knew that he would have to leave behind his daughter, the wife of Elfwine of Rohan. In the end, it was only that Gimli decided to leave for Valinor with him that made him leave Middle-Earth behind.

Thus ended the Fellowship again, though they would be reunited at the Dagor Dagorath, the Battle of all Battles, where they would fight alongside the Company and other warriors of Ages past against Melkor and his servants. And the battle will end and renew Arda’s existence.

 

[1] The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King, “The Houses of Healing”

[2] The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King, “The Steward and the King”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not too happy with the ending of the second part but between the deadline for submission and too much to do at work, this is my submission. At some point down the road, I might edit it but for now I'm happy to have managed at all.
> 
> While writing this, I created a family tree to keep track of how the characters are related. You can find it [here](http://mchrish.deviantart.com/art/The-Path-of-Duty-family-tree-405120584).


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